


when you roam the streets or starless cities

by milkied



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Madness, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkied/pseuds/milkied
Summary: title: when you roam the streets of starless citiespairing: jongin/kyungsoorating: nc-16warning(s): mentions of murder/sex, slight gorelength: 1870wsummary: here's the catch: jongin is a genie, kyungsoo gets 3 wishes and the cycle doesn’t end (the cycle doesn't end)





	

“they call me the manic pixie dream boy,” kyungsoo states, tilting his head up. he locks eyes with a considerably good-looking genie (save the shiner on his cheekbone and a faint bruise on the edge of his eye) that he had the luck to chance upon and smiles the gummy heart-shaped grin he’s always presented to people around him. 

the genie raises a brow in supposed confusion and kyungsoo drops his gaze but not his grin, whispering, “sans the last three words.”

-

jongin admits, this is not a coincidence, if it could even be passed off as one. he was hooked to kyungsoo the very second he laid eyes on him. it is not simply a matter finding himself unable to turn away from the abyss in his eyes. it is also not about the way sunlight trifles with his fiery red hair. 

it is the tension boiling beneath the surface of every word spoken, the storm that brews under every silenced thoughts.

“so, what, you can read my mind?” 

jongin shakes his head, eyes never leaving kyungsoo's plush lips. “but,” he points out, “there is so much nervous energy, how could anyone not have noticed?”

jongin observes the way giggles bubble from the base of kyungsoo's throat and the way his eyes crinkle into crescents when he replies, “because we all only look to the surface, see?” kyungsoo plops himself onto his bed, legs dangling off the sides and letting the conversation drop for awhile. it’s only when the words sink in and gets left forgotten in a corner that kyungsoo picks the conversation up again.“i know you see how i am pressure boiling beneath a surface, a storm waiting. but with all this energy - think. if we go, we could go like the migratory birds. how many miles.” 

“well, i am a genie and i owe you three wishes, like how the cliches go...” jongin shrugs, little shimmery dust falling off his shoulders, "you could wish." 

“i don't like cliches, nor do i want wishes. so you can actually, you know, dismiss yourself.” kyungsoo says, brushing jongin off with a little wave. his eyes flutter shut and he sinks further into the soft linen mattress.

kyungsoo gets taken away by sleep shortly, while jongin stays still in the same position where kyungsoo left him. “but we could go,” jongin mumbles. jongin walks towards kyungsoo and notices the way the blanket falls off a little the edges. he pulls them up and tucks kyungsoo in, feeling the brilliant storm of emotions buzz under the pale of his skin.

-

if jongin had to be honest with himself, he wants kyungsoo. he wants kyungsoo to need him so that maybe he’d have a chance to stay by his side and witness the way kyungsoo’s skin breaks under the pressure and how chaos erupts. 

-

“you’re crazy.” jongin laughs, shaking his head.

kyungsoo returns jongin a look, accompanied with a bright smile, “tell me something new.”

they drift into a comfortable silence for a moment, sound of soft chatters and clinking of teaspoons against coffee mugs in the background, before kyungsoo speaks again. jongin is beginning to get used to how conversations work with kyungsoo. “this is a proposition and this is me, telling you about the perks. you can’t leave until i make three wishes anyway.” kyungsoo leans back, observing the little scrunches of jongin’s nose that betrays his uncertainty, “i’m pretty sure you don’t want to spend forever hovering around me either.”

when jongin opens his mouth to protest, kyungsoo cuts him off, “i dole advice and comfort like cheap love on the streets, no use denying." he pauses and leans in, a hair's breadth away from jongin. jongin sees how kyungsoo's dark eyes are laced with a hint of manic excitement. his breath hitches. "so this is from me to you, run; go, before it’s too late.”

“alright,” jongin says, star-struck, (imagine the little star knockout halo circling around head,) “we can go.”

_let's face it, jongin cannot find his way around kyungsoo anyway._

-

kyungsoo has his fingers intertwined with jongin when they land on the ground with a muffled oomph. he likes to think of jongin this way: jongin is the non-existent. the only reason why jongin tolerates kyungsoo and grants him wishes is _not_ because kyungsoo saved him from getting beaten to death by a crazy drunkard, but because he is the non-existent.

jongin catches kyungsoo's thoughts and turns to prod him, tries to ask what the non-existent really is. kyungsoo continues grinning, “and you tell me that you can’t read minds.”

jongin shrugs, little amounts of glittery dust falling off his broad shoulders once again. he’s looking undeniably good in the sleeveless royal blue tunic that day, accompanied by silky black pants which flatters his long legs. jongin appears to finally drop the topic about the non-existent when he asks kyungsoo, “why do you want to come here, of all places you could go to?”

“because it’s only with a wish that i can have you with me, here.”

-

“here’s another perk.” kyungsoo says, kicking up the dead leaves that were lying peacefully on the ground while licking an ice cream which they bought from a zombie-like vendor. “we can roam like the wind and find ourselves in dusty trailer parks.” he gestures to wherever they are, in a small gray park where a cupid fountain stands in the middle of clustered, wilting flowers and yellowed bushes.

jongin feels a trail of goosebumps down his spine when the wind brushes. kyungsoo’s laughter is carried by the wind and it echoes, further and further down into the woods until what’s left of it is kyungsoo laughing, soundlessly. jongin shakes his head a little and scoffs at himself, “i think i’m crazy.”

kyungsoo nods enthusiastically, wasting no time in agreeing because, “that’s what they call me.”

-

“there is a reason why hurricanes are named after people,” kyungsoo’s voice is a mere mutter when lightning strikes and thunder roars. he is sitting on the edges of gray clouds, grip around jongin’s finger tightening ever so slightly as he peers down into the gray seas. everything’s whirling and whirling and kyungsoo’s lost count of the number of innocent fishes that may be caught in between. he knows there's no point, they are at a destruction site where the stench of death and rotting bodies is imminent.

jongin senses the fear that laps in waves and he rubs circles against kyungsoo’s palms.

as the conversation goes, when it seemed as if what kyungsoo said had been forgotten, he comes back again, “if you care to find out why.”

-

the night is hazy with tints of drunken laughter, there is a bottle of cheap spilled beer on the table and kyungsoo has absolutely no idea what business of his was it to be there. the room is dim, circling and circling and he sees them, their ravenous eyes raking through his body. “i am drugged,” he registers, coarse ropes binding his wrists uncomfortably.

kyungsoo is soaring, his mind has escaped him to another place, another universe. “i call this kyungsoo,” he’s pointing to the waters, index fingers circling and circling the way the room spins. he turns to his side, expecting to find jongin the non-existent right beside him, but wisps of gloomy grey cloud greets him. he shrugs, and turns back to the hurricane he’s trying to make.

the water swirls heavily under his finger and kyungsoo hears jongin disappearing between the clouds, little little water droplets. there are memories of them in the trailer park playing and kyungsoo watches as they flit between the then and the now, the miles in between and the freedom in his spread wings. when they come to the point where jongin disappears, the wisp of smoke much like the wisp of grey gloomy cloud, kyungsoo doesn’t get his breath back.

what he does is hit the replay button, smash it repeatedly in hopes that jongin will return.

-

there is the taste of blood, pungent in his mouth. kyungsoo recalls his own voice screaming, painful and familiar echoing throughout his head. his hair is sticking out in places that shouldn’t be and it’s sticky, sheening with perspiation. kyungsoo slides down, back leaning against the wall with a hand running through strands of his fiery red hair.

his hand turns out stained with red but kyungsoo convinces himself that it’s not blood, it’s his hair dye running off and “i should dye it soon, change of colors maybe.”

the face of jongin is caught at from the corner of his eyes. he is standing at the doorstep. the corner of kyungsoo’s mouth lifts and he drags himself off the cold marble tiles, “and who may you be?”

surprise flashes in jongin’s face, bruised knuckles hidden in his dark skinny jeans, before he recovers and mutters, “jongin. i’m a genie and you, do kyungsoo, have three wishes.”

the scars on jongin’s face contrasts mysteriously in the room lighting and kyungsoo rounds the room up. he doesn’t bother recalling the happenings since this probably wasn’t the first time, and kyungsoo isn’t the sort to seek headaches in pools of blood and unconscious bodies. he makes his way over to jongin, trampling over a guy and picking his amputated arm up.

“three wishes, you say?” kyungsoo asks but it isn’t a question. he walks out of the room, left shoulder brushing past jongin’s gently while an amputated arm is thrown over the other.

-

there’s a label that reads a fifty percent discount on the half chewed up arm, jongin notes as he peers into the carnival stand. kyungsoo laughs and links their arms together. he leads jongin out of the tent and one way or another, they end up in the same, dimly lit room. it’s cleared up now, no bodies -- not a trace of blood nor strand of hair.

jongin looks towards kyungsoo and kyungsoo looks towards the window, out where the night stood in an inky canopy of darkness. jongin hears him sigh, a soundless “there aren’t any stars”. his eyes dart slightly when kyungsoo turns his attention to him. kyungsoo smirks, “i caught you.”

jongin doesn’t speak, his face tints slightly and the room temperature rises a degree when kyungsoo makes his request, “i am laconic but this much i can say, take my wrists like… bent wings and pin me on a surface.” they aren’t making eye contact, but his mellow voice sends heat to his body and he does, just that.

-

kyungsoo doesn’t know how they do romance, but there is something in him that thinks jongin can hold him down in the starless city.

his lips were the softest to brush his collarbone, kyungsoo heats up like embers beneath his fingers. his teeth ripped him open, and had kyungsoo scattered across the soft satin sheets. kyungsoo doubts he can ever shrug off the feel of his lips on his chest and jongin’s weight on his body.

his eyelids flutter shut, a soft mumble “thank you.”

 

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> this was kind of a mess which i tried to clean up but failed a little terribly, it is also kinda pretentious.  
> i am apologetic for my messy thoughts but i have issues finding a better way to express this story, so this will do as of now. please leave a comment if possible! any constructive feedback is very welcomed thank you so much for your time!!


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